


The Knightshift: Ashes to Ashes

by WC_Pendragon



Series: The Knightshift [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Crime Scenes, Graphic Description of Corpses, Magic-Users, Murder, Other, Supernatural Elements, Werewolves, dayshift workers are assholes, first attempt at this, ungodly amounts of coffee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24419716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WC_Pendragon/pseuds/WC_Pendragon
Summary: A noise complaint turns into something much worse when the body of a young vampire is found missing her heart. Even stranger, there are random burn marks throughout the house, yet none of the neighbors reported seeing flames or smelling smoke.As more bodies are found, all in strange conditions, it's up to Alexi and the rest of the knightshift to hunt down the killer.
Series: The Knightshift [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763482
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Alexi worked the knight shift, and no, it's not spelled wrong. The knight shift was the affectionate name for the poor schmucks in Bluefield PD stuck working nocturnal hours. Whether the 'knight' part was derived from the idea that knights were once a pseudo police force in the old days or the mocking 'knight in shining armor' praise for handling hours and cases that no one else wanted to will forever be up to debate. But back to Alexi. A detective on the knight shift, his job was both the easiest and hardest in the department. Easy, because, despite the glamorous rap on TV of kicking down doors, following clues and chasing after perps, much of his job revolved around proper paperwork. Difficult because much of his job revolved around proper paperwork. Even with superior lycanthropic vision his eyes strained after five forms. Incident reports, background checks, evidence reports, general inquiries like needing copies of this or that; he almost longed for the TV glamour. At least there they were thanked for their hard work. The knight shift? If you count sarcastic hoots of faux gratitude 'thanks', well, then they had it in spades.

With a final scooping 'u', Alexi set another completed form aside, sighing deeply. He closed his eyes. Halfway through the night and he'd finally cut through the last few pages. Leaning back in his chair, Alexi focused on the dull hum of the fluorescent lights above him, trying to cut out the clamor just past his office door. To ignore the shrill ring of the phones and the angry tones of the fax machine. The faint scent of coffee drifted in the air, accompanied by the closer smell of a recently-opened Red Bull. Someone was having a rough night. Maybe he'd get something to drink in a minute. Maybe. For now, though, Alexi wanted to enjoy this moment of calm. Just rest.

He heard the footsteps before the knock. For a hopeful second, he thought they'd walk right by. But they didn't. Even when the door opened, Alexi kept his eyes closed. If he didn't open them, maybe he could will himself to stop existing, or into existing on a remote island with a library and an endless supply of coffee.

"Don't you go sleeping on me now, Scruffy!" Sarah chided as she entered, balancing a drink carrier and plastic bag in one hand. The rich scent of fresh coffee blasted his nose. Alexi cracked one eye open.

"What would those punks on the day shift say if they saw you now?"

"Probably ask if I got tired chasing my tail,"he replied.

Finally accepting that his respite was over, Alexi fully sat up. Sarah sat a large disposable cup on the desk. Dark roast with half and half and three packs of sugar. Just how he liked it. Gratefully, he took a swig, flinching when the scalding liquid reached his mouth. Cackling, Sarah watched him carefully set it down on his desk.

"Hot!" He huffed, swiping his tongue over his lips.

"No shit, Sherlock, it's fresh!"

Alexi stuck his tongue out. Sarah reciprocated the gesture.

"So." Pushing the fire-hot cup aside, Alexi locked eyes with Sarah. "What fresh hell are we getting into tonight?"

An offended gasp left her lips. "Do you think I only came here to bring bad news? I'm wounded! Maimed even!"

"No,"Alexi replied, a smile breaking out on his face, all fang. He pointed at the bag on her arm. "But you only ever bring me a chocolate donut before we get a case. So spill."

Sarah clicked her tongue.

"It's freaky how you do that, you know."

"What? Smell things?"

"Notice patterns,"she corrected, pulling the donut from the bag. "But, yes, your sense of smell is unsettlingly good."

Shrugging, Alexi snatched the donut from her hand. "What's the story?"

"Noise complaint came in from an apartment building on Pershing. Cops went over to check but didn't get an answer, even though the music kept playing. Broke down the door and found a body. Don't know much more than that but apparently it's gruesome as all get out."

Exhaling, Alexi stood. "I almost miss the paperwork."

Sarah clapped him on the shoulder.

"Just eat your donut, Scruffy."

The drive to the scene was as uneventful as can be expected for city traffic at midnight. Neon signs and traffic lights burned on all sides, reflecting star-like off the windows and glass doors of the surrounding buildings. People switched lanes without signaling and ran red lights. (Sometimes Alexi really did wish he'd been in the ticket-giving line of business.) But, eventually, Alexi found the flashing red and blue beacons. Pulling in near the entrance, the duo exited. Already there was yellow tape and people peeking out of their rooms to catch a glimpse of the commotion. An officer led them up to the fifth floor. Growing heavier and heavier as they neared the scene was a thick metallic scent. Alexi knew it instantly. Blood.

But there was something underneath. Dark and bitter. Fire? Maybe, but it was off. Not in the way a chemical or electrical fire smelled, but off nonetheless. Ducking under yet more tape, Alexi took in the scene.

The room was a mess. Furniture was turned over and glasses were broken, white wine seeping into the carpet. Passion gone wrong, perhaps? Blackened areas littered the main room, scorches and piles of ashes. So there had been a fire. Or at least, several small, localized ones. But none of the neighbors reported smelling smoke. Aside from that, it didn't seem that anyone in the adjacent buildings has reported flames, either. No firetrucks or firemen. Stranger still, when Alexi bent down to examine a collection of the ashes, scattered within the black he found bits of sparkling red. Under the smell of fire and blood, there was the lingering telltale odor of at least one cat, and something he vaguely recognized as perfume. Further into the apartment, the fire damage became more concentrated, blackening the walls and melting the picture frames. The glass inside was singed, but a few images could be made out; a young woman with dark hair, posing for a glamour shots or smiling at the camera among friends. Some were slightly yellowed with age, time-stamps from old camera models resting in the corners, others newer and clear. Small yellow signs marked areas of interest on the floor, leading down a small hallway to a room in the back. By now the scent of blood was suffocating.

Approaching the room cautiously, Alexi drew in a deep breath. The strange smell of the fire was stronger here, too.

She was lying face-up on the floor. The ends of her dark hair were singed, as were parts of her face and body, but enough remained to match her to the photos in the hall. Her chest had been torn open, burned around the edges, rib cage haphazardly broken. Splinters of bone sat crushed beside her. Blood pooled at her torso; old and black as with all vampires. Her mouth hung open, frozen, meaning she had died gasping or screaming. But worse of all were her eyes. They were open. Staring, terrified, into nothing.

Kneeling over her was an older woman in a Tyvek suit. Blue-gloved hands delicately examined the victim's body, gently pressing her skin.

"Good evening, Alexi,"she greeted, voice muffled slightly by her mask.

"Cardamom,"Alexi replied. "What do we got?"

"Her name is Olivier Simmons. Liver mortis puts TOD around forty minutes ago, right around when the call was put in. Burns are anti-mortem." Indicating Olivier's chest wound, Cardamom continued, "As I'm sure comes as no surprise, COD is severe chest trauma. Her heart was torn right out. After that, it was only a matter of minutes before she bled out."

Alexi exhaled, dropping his head. Cardamom hummed. "Poor girl. Agonizing way to go, to say the least."

Uttering a soft 'yeah', Alexi picked his head up. "That's… That's one way to put it."

"The scratches around the wound are likely from whatever tore open her chest. Parallel lines suggest claws, but I won't know for sure until I get her to autopsy."

"You about ready?"

At Cardamom's affirmation, Alexi stood. However, as he did so, something inside Olivier's chest wound caught his eye. Kneeling back down, he indicated it to Cardamom, who retrieved it.

"It looks like it chipped off of something." She examined it closely. "But what I'm not sure."

"Here." Alexi held open a small evidence bag. Cardamom gently placed the red chip inside. Quickly, Alexi filled out the front of the bag.

"I'll get out of your way so you can finish up here. Meet you in autopsy?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Nodding once, Alexi left her to finish prepping Olivier for transport. Retracing his path through the hall, he came back out into the living room.

"Alexi!"

At the sound of his name, Alexi turned to find Sarah standing beside the largest pile of ashes, a young man in tow. He was slight, with a diamond-shaped face and pronounced cheekbones. Sarah waved him over.

"I'd like you to meet Doctor Freddie Tran,"she introduced, "Forensic entomologist, mineralogist, spell-tracer, and our new probie!"

With a wide smile, Freddie extended a hand. Warmth absolutely poured from his face, radiating kindness with an intensity not unlike that of the sun. Alexi gladly took it.

"Pleasure to meet you, Doctor! Detective Alexi Vacarescu."

"Pleasure's all mine!" Taking his hand back, Freddie gave the room a cursory look. "Seems like I have my work cut out for me. Anywhere in particular you'd like me to start?"

Pursing his lips, Alexi's eyes fell to the piles of ashes scattered about the room.

"Yes, actually,"he said. "Do you think you could perform a spell trace on these ash piles?"

"You think they're magic?" Sarah asked, quirking a brow.

"Has to be. Doesn't smell like normal fire."

"You can… You can smell the difference?" Sarah guffawed. "Dude!"

Rolling his eyes, Alexi stepped over to a larger pile of ashes near the couch. Freddie and Sarah followed, the former crouching down beside the pile. A mumbled incantation fell from Freddie's lips as he held his hands over the ashes. Magic poured from intricate tattoos on the backs of his hands. His fingers diligently pushed and pulled ethereal strings, liquid-like and wispy. Red curled around his fingertips, fading to orange and gold as it traveled from his tattoos. It flickered. Minuscule pops and sizzles sounded from the ashes. All at once, the magic faded, the red glow lingering for a few seconds. Seemingly appeased by this reaction, Freddie nodded.

"One thing's for sure, it's definitely a byproduct of some kind of fire magic,"Freddie confirmed, "But, as for what school of magic, I have to be honest: I can't tell. This is nothing I've ever seen before."

"Shit." Alexi muttered. "What about the red particles?"

"I can take samples and analyze them, see if that gets us anywhere."

"Alright. Would you mind taking a look at this, too?"

Alexi offered up the bag containing the chip. Freddie brought it close to his eyes. A small 'huh' left him.

"I'll see what I can do."

Behind them, Cardamom came through alongside another medical examiner, wheeling Olivier's body through the apartment. Finishing up the scene was a much easier task now that she had been moved. With some of the heavy blood smell gone, Alexi could focus on smaller details. Searching by the kitchen, he found a litter box, freshly cleaned, proving his detection of the cat correct. This, in addition to the scent of the perfume and wine, made it fairly obvious that Olivier's killer was whoever she had over. Current or jilted partners were prime suspects. Her family or friends would likely have some leads to follow. Which brought Alexi and Sarah to the next step: Notifying Olivier's next of kin.

"Anise Simmons,"read Sarah, blue-white light of her tablet screen casting an eerie glow about her face. "Olivier's sister. Lives at 2310 Korigan Avenue."

Clutching the steering wheel, Alexi's eyes were pointedly fixed on the passing cars to their left. With a deep breath, he signaled, and eased into the lane. Silence engulfed them the entire ride.

After all, what is there to talk about when you're on the way to tell someone her sister is dead?


	2. Chapter 2

Notifying someone of a death is not easy. It's never easy. No matter how long you've been on the job, whether it's ten years or ten minutes, it will never get any easier. The words don't roll off your tongue any faster. They fill your throat, thick and sharp. They scrape the inside of your mouth. Slowly. Painfully. Excruciatingly, they come out, and hang in the air. How long they hang is different every time. Sometimes they fall instantly, dropping like a lead weight, shattering. And sometimes… Sometimes they fall slow. It doesn't even seem as if the words are moving, just suspended in the ether, frozen. But when--if\--they fall, the impact is cataclysmic. Worse than a weight. Screaming as they descend, there's a brief moment of silence just before they hit the ground. Still. Then, an explosion. Atomic. Apocalyptic. They wipe out the world. There's nothing left. Nothing. Maybe there's screaming. You know there's crying. Begging, hoping, bargaining. "You've got the wrong person." "There's no way." "This is just a bad prank." It isn't. Gods, how you wish it was. You wish you didn't have to do this. Wish it had never happened. Wishing won't change it, however. You have to do it. You have to stand there, stone-faced as you tell someone that their mom or best friend or spouse was dead. The worst part, the very worst part, is that you can't break. Not one ounce of emotion can touch your face. Not one. It doesn't matter how deeply you feel their sorrow and anger or the tears building behind your own eyes, you cannot break. The person you're informing needs a rock and in that moment you must become a statue. Unflinching. Unfeeling.

It's hell. Pure and simple.

"I can do it alone,"Sarah offered.

Alexi exhaled.

"No. I need to do this." He leaned back in the seat, rubbing his eyes. "I hate this."

"I think you're supposed to." Unbuckling her seatbelt, Sarah gazed at the house. There was a single light on, and someone moving around inside. As expected for a vampire residence.

"Tell you what: You find me someone who loves this part of the job and I'll happily let 'em tag along."

Mirthlessly, Alexi laughed.

"What about Dane?"

"Who, the D.A.?"

"Yeah. I mean, guy's obviously twisted. He's a D.A. and a day shifter."

Sarah smacked his upper arm, but couldn't argue.

"Right." Alexi sat up straight, pale violet eyes falling upon the front door. "It's not fair to Anise to keep it from her any longer."

The sound of the car doors closing was thunderous in the relative quiet of the night. In the lit room, Alexi saw the curtain twitch. Anise opened the door before they could knock, and right away her confusion became terror. While on the whole not as strong as a werewolf's, a vampire's olfactory senses were nothing to sneeze at. Alexi had no doubts Anise could smell her sister's blood. She knew something was wrong.

"Ms. Simmons?" At Anise's nod, Alexi and Sarah produced their badges. "Detectives Vacar--"

["What happened to my sister?"] Anise signed, mouthing the words. Alexi did not miss the quiver in her lips.

["May we come in?"] Alexi was shocked at how steady his hands were.

Anise stared at them for a moment. Finally, she moved aside. Sarah entered first, Alexi following behind. Almost immediately, his eyes zeroed in on a photo sitting atop a thin side-table in the foyer. It was newer, by the clearness of the image, beholding the image of Anise and Olivier sitting on an overly-large novelty chair. Alexi's chest seized. His mother had taken a similar picture of Hana and himself years back. They were so young. So many things had gone wrong on that trip, but nothing too grievous to take Hana's life. What if it had? What would it have been like if he had lost her then? What would it be like if he lost her today? Staring at officers outside his door in the middle of the night, smelling her blood, wondering what had gone wrong but knowing deep down what the final result was. The shock and denial.

Shaking his head, Alexi continued into the living room. But there were others here, too. Anise and Olivier underneath the Vegas sign, in front of the Eiffel Tower, the mandatory kitschy 'holding up the leaning tower of Pisa' picture. Post cards from Monte Carlo and Honolulu. Simpler pictures of Olivier and friends on the boardwalk or on the beach at night. There was life before death. Friends and memories and embarrassing stories to relive on the couch with a mouth full of reheated Chinese takeout.

These pictures, Alexi realized, these moments forever frozen behind a thin sheet of glass, they were all that was left of Olivier. All that Anise had.

Heading straight for the couch, Anise sat on the very edge. Sarah and Alexi took up the armchairs opposite of her.

["What happened to Olivier?"]

Sarah and Alexi glanced at one another, exchanging the smallest of nods.

With Alexi translating, Sarah explained, "I'm sorry, Ms. Simmons, but I'm afraid we're here to inform you that Olivier is dead."

Silence. Stillness. Staring.

["You're lying."]

Anise's movements were hollow and dazed. She repeated the signs several more times, slowly falling apart each time. A crackling sob escaped her, and she doubled over, covering her head with her arms. She rocked back and forth. Alexi's throat was dry. He could feel the tremors building in his core, slithering out to his shoulders and then the tips of his fingers. Guilt weighed heavy on his hands.

'Don't break,'he reminded himself. 'Don't break. Don't feel. You can't afford to feel.'

One part down. Now came the follow-up questions.

["How?"]

["She was murdered."]

A deep groan rose from Anise's chest. Saltwater filled the air. Alexi swallowed.

'Detach,'he commanded himself.

More questions. "How was she killed", "why", "do you know who".

"That's what we're trying to figure out, Ms. Simmons." Sarah's voice was level. Toneless. "Did Olivier have a significant other?"

["No,"] Anise replied, shaking her head. ["Olivier hasn't been in a relationship since 1967, but they ended on good terms. She's had trouble finding anyone she's really wanted to date since then."]

"Can you give us a list of names?"

Anise drew in a shuddering breath as she watched Alexi's translation.

["We know this is a lot to ask you right now, but we believe this will help our investigation."]

["I'll try."]

Sarah produced a small notepad and pen, writing down the names that Anise gave. There were three in total: Angus O'Carol, the previous partner, Louis Kelvin, and Kate Promare. Tracking them all down for questioning would be a job in and of itself. Anise's hands were trembling as she set them in her lap. Tears were still streaming down her face. More than anything, Alexi wanted to comfort her. To cry with her. To let her know that her pain did not go unnoticed. But he had to detach. Be distant.

["You have our sincerest condolences."] The first in what would no doubt be a series of the same sentence. ["We will keep you updated on the status of the case."]

Alexi and Sarah stood, but Anise stopped them.

["Before you go, please--"] Desperation etched itself into Anise's features. ["Promise me that you're going to find out who took my sister from me. Promise me."]

In the back of his mind, Alexi was screaming, 'Don't make promises you can't keep!'

His hands moved before he could stop them.

["You have our word, Ms. Simmons."]

He pretended not to notice the burning glare from Sarah's eyes. She waited until they were in the car to smack him. Stinging pain crashed against the back of his head.

"What the hell were you thinking?! What happens if we can't do it? Are you gonna come back here and tell Anise we failed?"

"Sarah--"

"No! Alexi, that was stupid. I get that you wanted to comfort her and all, and I love for that, man, but making a promise like that is reckless!"

"The fuck would you have me do, then?!" The snarl that ended his words was low and warning. It didn't help the pressure building in the backs of his eyes. "Just let her cry? Maybe you're numb to it now, Sarah, but I'm not! I can't sit there and watch somebody cry and not feel their pain! We have to sit there time after time, we can't offer them any physical comfort, and give people the worst news of their lives! And I'm there, I'm close enough to help them, when they are begging for some kind of justice, what else am I supposed to say?!"

Chest heaving, Alexi furiously scrubbed at his eyes. Five years. Five _fucking_ years and it never hurt any less. Never got any easier. Bile rose in his throat. Sarah reached over, pulling him into a tight hug. A warm hand ran up and down his back. God, this was embarrassing. Right now, someone else was crying because she lost her sister, and here he was, crying because he had to tell her. It felt wrong. He had no right to hurt. None at all. Yet he still did. Still felt Anise's pain as if it was his own, still imagined the agony he'd feel if it were one of his sisters. If it were Sarah.

"It hurts me, too,"Sarah said.

His pain was all too familiar to her. That all-consuming sense of helplessness in the face of insurmountable suffering. It was what drove her to becoming a criminal investigator in the first place; she had told him so point-blank. They both felt it. The only difference was in how they handled those feelings. She was always much better at separating herself from those feelings. Compartmentalizing that helplessness, that devastation, until she could properly deal with it. Alexi lacked that ability. He simply felt. Sniffing, Alexi gripped tightly to his friend. Wordless, she gave him a tight squeeze. Secure. Safe. Present. A promise that she wasn't going anywhere any time soon. Sarah let him go with a few pats to his back. Alexi pushed his hair behind his ear. Okay. Swallowing, he blinked until the world was mostly clear again. Sarah produced a tissue packet from the glove compartment, passing it to him.

"Come on, Scruffy." Bumping his shoulder, she swiped the keys. "I'm driving."

Settling into the passenger seat, Alexi once more ran his hands over his face.

'Pull yourself together. Deep breaths. You can't go back to the station looking like that.'

The ride back to the precinct was wordless, broken only by Sarah's notice of a road work sign and sure hoping that it did. Usually, the joke was enough to lift Alexi's spirits. But not tonight. Still, he appreciated that she tried.

Cardamom was already waiting for them down in autopsy. Now out of her field suit, she was dressed in a set of emerald scrubs, her lavishly patterned hijab no longer hidden. Alexi had always secretly likened the decoration on her hijabs to his mother's embroidered blouses. It felt very homely. (He never dared to say so out loud, however.) On the table before her was Olivier's body, disturbingly pale. Careful hands adjusted the sheet covering her. Beneath the electric hum of the lights, there was the faintest sound of bells, accompanied by Cardamom's voice.

"Ah, here they are now,"she said to Olivier, "I'll tell them everything you told me, dear, don't worry."

Speaking to the dead was a habit of hers. (What she spoke about differed, sometimes personal anecdotes, sometimes stories she'd heard and loved.) Autopsies were silent and lonely affairs, not to mention incredibly invasive. Talking to them made Cardamom feel that she was working with them and not on them. Even if they had left this world, at the end of the day, it was still their body. They had felt a summer breeze, once. Been warmed by the sun. Had aches and pains for one reason or another. Eaten too much and felt sick. All in that body. Just like Cardamom. Just like Alexi and Sarah. Such sanctity had to be respected, dead or alive.

Turning, Cardamom greeted them, and jumped into her findings.

"Normal first. No signs of sexual assault. Defensive wounds on her hands and arms. Her right index finger is broken, likely from blocking her attacker. I dug a little deeper into her chest cavity and found more claw marks inside, as well as V-shaped nicks on her ribs."

Sarah and Alexi crowded the other side of the table, leaning in to see for themselves.

"What's odd, though--" Cardamom lowered the sheet, exposing Olivier's stomach with a soft 'excuse me, dear'.

The burns around her chest obscured most of them, but here they were much clearer. And much weirder. There were three, not four or five lines, parallel to each other. That ruled out a majority of humanoids. Directly beneath the three main lines, however, there were two short lines. Punctures both shallow and deep littered the area as well.

Alexi cycled through every species that could potentially have left such marks, and all came up wrong. Even factoring out obvious ones like weres and non-obvious ones like naga or even kappa, that left a grab bag of close-but-not-quite matches. The only close match that came to mind was some kind of dragon. Even that was a stretch.

"In all my years, I've never seen anything leave wounds like this."

Whether Cardamom meant all her years of life (which Alexi knew there were many more of those than she ever let on), or all her years as a medical examiner (forty-five in total), for her to be unable to recognize a wound did not bode well. She was by far the most experienced member of their team. One glance and she could tell you the kind of hammer that crushed someone's skull in, right down to the brand and what store it came from. Sword, gun, guillotine--she had seen it all. All but this.

Biting his lip, Alexi gazed at the cuts.

Looks like their job just got a whole lot harder.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Alexi's eyes travelled up to Olivier's face. She wasn't frozen mid-scream anymore, nor was she staring into nothingness. If anything, she looked peaceful. Asleep. How did she imagine her end, he wondered? Did she imagine it at all? Of course, she was a vampire, so thinking about something she didn't need to worry about likely wasn't her prerogative. Vampires were immortal. Their "ends" were more often than not their beginnings. Unlife sprung from death. They were born dead--whether literally born or simply created after varied for each one, but in the end that is where they began. But to truly end? To really, fully die like this. Not even the necessarily normal ways, like a stake through the heart or sun exposure; a messy, agonizing, terrifying, real death. No one could imagine that. Not even the unliving.

Digital-toned music notes echoed in the autopsy room. Alexi took his phone from his pocket, sliding up to answer.

"Vacarescu, who's calling?"

"Alexi, hi,"came the sunshiney reply. "It's Freddie. I'm just about to get the results in on that chip you gave me, figured you'd wanna have a look."

At first, Alexi was shocked. He'd already identified it? But it was only-- Alexi briefly took the phone from his ear, and the screen lit up. In the top left corner, beside the gear-shaped settings notification he could never seem to make go away, was the time: 5:49AM.

Oh.

"Sure,"Alexi replied, still trying to figure out how that much time had passed. "Sarah and I will be right up."

"Seeya in a bit! Tran, out."

Alexi ended the call, looking at the time once again.

"New guy?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah,"he affirmed, "He's got something for us."

"Already? Wait, how? It--"

Alexi showed her the time.

Sarah frowned.

"It's one of those nights, isn't it?"

With a solemn nod, Alexi put his phone away. He turned to Cardamom.

"Call forensics come down and take a look at the wounds. Cori might know what's up."

"I already called Cori,"Cardamom said, "They're on their way but it'll take them at least an hour to get here."

"Where the hell are they?!"

Cardamom made a vague gesture with her hand. "I couldn't hear that much--sounded crowded--but I believe there was something about rattlesnake venom and Jack Daniels?"

Sarah made a face. "Not mixed together, I hope."

"With herpetologists? Anything's possible."

Heading towards the door, Alexi looked over his shoulder.

"If you find anything else, call, alright?"

"You'll be the first to know."

One foot in the hall, Alexi heard the bells quietly begin again, accompanied by Cardamom's voice.

"You know, Olivier,"she said, "This reminds me of something. Why don't I tell you about the Chinese cave gecko incident?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this update took so long! Life end up utterly trashing my plans. I couldn't get back to finishing it until the 27th of last month. Still, I hope this chapter was worth the wait~!

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the first installment of the Knightshift series!!
> 
> This is my very first time writing something in the crime/thriller genre, so I haven't quite found my footing yet. But I've always loved shows, movies, and books like this! I grew up watching Bones, NCIS, Criminal Minds--Knightshift is my little love note to them all.
> 
> Something I've never seen, though, outside of fanfiction and one anime, is a supernaturally-oriented crime show. Which honestly shocks me!! There's so much potential!! People say "write what you want to read" and I figured it's time I do exactly that! And who better than Alexi? From the beginning of his creation, I knew I wanted him to be some kind of law enforcement officer, but I wasn't sure exactly what kind until I started rewatching Bones, and it hit me!
> 
> I've already started on the next chapter, so, hopefully by next week the second chapter should be up!
> 
> I do so hope you'll enjoy this first endeavor of many as much as I enjoy writing it!! See you next chapter~!


End file.
